


Silver Linings

by manic_intent



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Full spoilers, M/M, Post-Canon, That mid to postcanon story where Alexios and Thaletas work out a few boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “Eagle-bearer.” Thaletas rose from his desk as Alexios sauntered into the chamber. “It’s good to see you.”“Don’t call me that,” Alexios said as he slouched into a spare chair. “It makes me feel as though Ikaros is the one behind all my exploits.” He looked around the piled correspondence on Thaletas’ desk with an air of amusement. “Keeping busy, I see.”“Busy enough.” Alexios looked… good. He was dressed in Spartan armour, embossed and burnished to a gold sheen, his sleeves sharp-tongued scales that overlapped over powerful biceps. There was a new blade at his hip and a new bow at his back. New scars, too, fading over his arm, just above his bracers. “What brings you back to the Silver Islands?” Thaletas asked, trying not to make it look visibly like he was gawking.





	Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

> The Silver Islands romance (Kyra and/or Thaletas) is the longest romance questline in the game (unless you count Alkibiades?) and can be seen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLo6SadWvuQ if you’re curious. By the way, if you do intend to do the Silver Islands quest and have Thaletas AND Kyra survive, you should do it carefully with a walkthrough. 
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> Full spoilers for the game, so:
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> I went back to the Silver Islands in late game and not only was it under Athenian control, but Thaletas was also still standing with Kyra on the balcony of her house and wouldn’t give me the time of day. Kyra just tells me to go away. O_o;; Kind of odd if you ask me, so fic it is. 
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> Note: I’m aware that the Greek underwear of the time is called perizoma (the amount of underwear research I have to do when writing fic, seriously), but for the purposes of fic I’ll just use 'loincloth' to refer to it.

“Eagle-bearer.” Thaletas rose from his desk as Alexios sauntered into the chamber. “It’s good to see you.”

“Don’t call me that,” Alexios said as he slouched into a spare chair. “It makes me feel as though Ikaros is the one behind all my exploits.” He looked around the piled correspondence on Thaletas’ desk with an air of amusement. “Keeping busy, I see.” 

“Busy enough.” Alexios looked… good. He was dressed in Spartan armour, embossed and burnished to a gold sheen, his sleeves sharp-tongued scales that overlapped over powerful biceps. There was a new blade at his hip and a new bow at his back. New scars, too, fading over his arm, just above his bracers. “What brings you back to the Silver Islands?” Thaletas asked, trying not to make it look visibly like he was gawking. 

“This and that,” Alexios said. He made a show of studying the chamber. “What happened to the fort?” 

“The fort?” Thaletas repeated, startled at the sudden question.

“Miltiades Fort.”

“It’s full of Athenian soldiers?” Thaletas pointed out. The Athenian flag could be seen from afar, at that. 

“Yes…” Alexios said patiently, with a little frown. “What happened? When I left, weren’t you and Kyra in charge?” 

Thaletas grit his teeth. He’d regretted Alexios leaving at the beginning, regretted it for weeks. Kyra had tried to be sympathetic, but there was too much history between Kyra and himself for her sympathy to do much but rankle. Regret gave way into resentment, which was easier. Alexios treated the world like the demigod he was rumoured to be, as a playground for him to shape however he liked. Thaletas had resented being shaped, even if he had craved—then rejected—it at the time. 

“The theatres of war in the Ionian Islands are—“

“I asked you what happened,” Alexios cut in, with a hint of exasperation. “Why didn’t you send for me? I would have come.” 

Kyra had suggested that. Thaletas had been stubborn, mired in resentment and heartache and bitterness and this had been the result. Some Spartan General he was. Causing the deaths of his men, coming here to answer a call for help from a lover. Causing more deaths because he had been too proud to send his own. 

He was not too proud to admit his mistakes. “I made several errors of judgment,” Thaletas said, though it hurt to say it. “Between the renewed Athenian blockade and these errors, the Athenians did recently retake control of the Silver Islands.” 

“What happened to Kyra? I dropped by to greet her and she just about near bit my head off,” Alexios said. He looked a little hurt about that, and for one irrational moment, Thaletas was jealous. Even though as far as he knew Alexios had never been interested in Kyra. It had been Thaletas who had been the recipient of Alexios’ full attention, a heady drug that had seeped into his bones as pain after the Adriesta sailed away.

“She’s had a trying time,” Thaletas said. He hardly ever spoke with Kyra nowadays. The few Spartan soldiers left under his command had to be managed carefully. 

“Morale’s low. Your men and hers.” 

Thaletas clenched his hands over the edge of his desk. “I’m aware of that.” 

Alexios’ frown deepened. “What happened to _you_?” Before Thaletas could think of a response, Alexios had uncurled from his seat and was at his side, hauling him up and shoving him against a wall. The seat toppled with a crash. Thaletas sucked in a tight breath, startled. He’d known Alexios was strong—he’d seen Alexios pull his own weight up onto a ledge with no support but his grip. But to pick up Thaletas in full armour like this, as though he weighed no more than a child—

Thaletas grimly tamped down on a gritty surge of lust and slapped away Alexios’ grip. He glanced over Alexios’ shoulder and waved away the guard who glanced in. “You sailed all the way here to lecture me?” Thaletas said, annoyed. 

“No, I sailed ‘all the way here’ because I missed you,” Alexios snapped. He bracketed Thaletas against the wall as Thaletas blinked, leaning in to kiss Thaletas roughly on the mouth. Thaletas’ blunt nails scraped over the embossed ornamentation on Alexios’ cuirass and curled in the straps, hauling him closer with a moan. Fingertips curled into his braid, tugging until it stung as Alexios kissed Thaletas as though he wanted to devour him. He was rumbling as he did it, an angry hungry wolfish sound. It made Thaletas breathlessly hard. Everything about Alexios did, like this. 

“I missed you as well,” Thaletas admitted in a whisper when Alexios let up and buried his mouth against Thaletas’ throat. Biting, marking him over the marks that couldn’t be seen. Alexios had a way of scouring himself into others, even when he didn’t mean to. That was the way of gods and demigods alike. “I wish I didn’t.”

Alexios hummed. He bit down close to the hollow of Thaletas’ throat, then licked up his jaw. “I want to have you.” 

“Here?” It was in the middle of the day. In his _office_. 

“That door locks, doesn’t it?” 

“But…” Thaletas trailed off. He swallowed the rest of his protests as Alexios nipped him over his pulse. Thaletas shivered. He remembered this. Alexios fought like the Spartan he was—aggressive but not reckless. In bed he was the same, and like called to like. He remembered what it was like to be drugged. “Close the door then,” Thaletas said. Gods, he ached. 

Alexios obeyed. He prowled back to the desk, lifting Thaletas up onto a part of it not covered with work. His fingers dug into Thaletas’ hips, even through the layers of fabric, under Thaletas’ cuirass. Thaletas didn’t bother helping. He kissed Alexios instead, dizzy with lust, hands clenched over straps of armour. Kissed him as Alexios navigated their loincloths, as Alexios spat on his palm and pressed against him, just as achingly hard. 

They rubbed against each other with ragged gasps. Alexios had his mouth buried against Thaletas’ throat, breathing him in greedily as he stroked them both with his long fingers. This was like the first time, pinned against a rock by Alexios on top of a hill, both of them bruised and bloody from sparring. Like the last time, when Alexios had been impatient to leave and unapologetic about it. Eagle-bearer. Alexios’ eagle loved him because they were kindred. They were both wild creatures that deigned only briefly to come to roost. Thaletas understood that. It didn’t mean that he didn’t resent it still. It was human to want what you could not have. 

Alexios spent himself with a stutter of his hips and a growl. He rubbed the mess over them both, chuckling as Thaletas whined and bucked, chasing his own ecstasy. He braced his hands on the desk and shoved into Alexios’ grip and spilled with a cry that he couldn’t bite down in time. As he sank back on his desk on his elbows, Thaletas watched as Alexios started to lick his fingers deliberately clean. Thaletas pushed himself up, leaning over to run his tongue over soiled knuckles, over callused fingertips until he was met with Alexios’ mouth, hungry again. 

“Let’s move to your bed,” Alexios said, his gaze hot. 

“Later,” Thaletas said. He was tempted. With Alexios, he was always tempted. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I _am_ in a great deal of trouble. And. I do need your help.”

“That wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” Alexios started to smirk but sobered quickly under Thaletas’ solemn stare. “Thaletas. It isn’t my intent to… shame you, if that’s what you think. If you ever need my help, for anything, just ask. But you will have to ask.”

Seed was cooling against his thigh, lust fading into resentment in its wake. Thaletas glowered up at Alexios. “Why?” 

“Because—“ Alexios kissed him on the forehead, “—I want it to matter to you.” 

Thaletas let out an incredulous laugh. “And you think it wouldn’t otherwise?” 

“Ah, well, I _am_ a misthios by trade,” Alexios said, with a cheeky grin. His eyes remained serious. “We don’t like being taken for granted.” 

“When have I taken you for granted?” Thaletas asked. Alexios was in an odd mood, one that Thaletas had seen before in Kyra. Saying one thing, meaning another. He’d never had the patience for it. “Tell me.” 

“What if I hadn’t decided to come by Mykonos, hm?” Alexios ignored the question. “You’re weeks from being routed off this perch by the Athenians. You have no way off the island, not through the blockade.” 

“No true Spartan is afraid of death,” Thaletas said. It was his turn to frown. Alexios snorted. He set their clothes to rights with deft hands, his lips pressed into a thin line. As he stepped up onto the windowsill, Thaletas almost called Alexios back to his side. Demanded an explanation. Alexios waited, glancing at Thaletas, but when he said nothing Alexios hauled himself out of sight.

Thaletas sank down into his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. He still ached.

#

Ikaros landed on Alexios’ shoulder as he watched the chaos he’d unleashed in the fort from a safe vantage. Alexios absently tried to tickle the eagle under his chin and pulled his hands away as Ikaros playfully snapped his beak. “You’re in a funny mood too, I see,” Alexios told him. Ikaros chirped. “You and everyone else.”

The eagle shifted his weight, fluffing his wings. Alexios sighed, getting to his feet. “What am I doing here, Ikaros?” 

Ikaros cocked his head and took flight, riding the drafts until he was a distant circling speck high above. Alexios watched him go, then turned around and whistled Phobos to him. He made sure to scrub blood off his armour and gear by the time he made it back to the town. Hitching Phobos to a fence, Alexios climbed up the villa that the Spartans had repurposed as their base of operations. Thaletas’ room was near the top floor. Door closed. Alexios let himself quietly in through the window.

It was an ugly hour for honest men. Thaletas was already asleep, curled on the bed and naked but for his loincloth. Alexios padded over to the bed, enjoying the view. The old scars he remembered were older. New scars were lashed over Thaletas’ arms, gashed by the edge of a sword, if Alexios had to guess. As he got closer, Thaletas murmured, “Alexios?”

“Do you know anyone else who breaks into your room at night?” Alexios asked. 

Thaletas sniffed, rolling onto his back with a yawn. “Athenian assassins, maybe. There’ve been one or two.” 

“You do look prepared for an assassin,” Alexios said, flicking his gaze pointedly up and down Thaletas’ bared skin. Thaletas shook his head, lifting his pillow briefly to show Alexios a knife. 

“I sleep lightly.” Thaletas watched avidly as Alexios stripped down, hauling off scabbards, unstrapping his cuirass and greaves. “How did it go?”

“I’m alive and other people are dead,” Alexios said. He smiled mischievously as Thaletas glowered at him. “The polemarch and his captains have been taken care of, their supplies burned. Tomorrow I’ll pick off a few of their ships or harass a few of their camps. Reinforcements should be able to reach you through their lines.” 

“A one-man army,” Thaletas said. He didn’t look pleased, only pensive. “You are a god.” 

“I’m not averse to being worshipped,” Alexios said, sitting down on the bed in his loincloth. His playful grin faded when Thaletas merely stared at him. “Now what have I done?” 

“You have a singular talent for war.”

“You Spartans like that, don’t you?” 

Thaletas looked away, over towards the window. The moon outside was dulled by clouds, the fresh sea breeze cut by scents of cooking grease, refuse, drying fish. “‘You Spartans’. You’re Spartan too.” 

“Not at all,” Alexios said, amused. “I don’t have citizenship.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be hard for you to acquire that. You’re descended from King Leonidas. You bear his spear.” 

“A broken spear,” Alexios said. His amusement was growing fey. “Speaking of which, I’m never going to look at it the same way again. I was in Lokris the other month and there was this blacksmith who kept using the word ‘spear’ to refer to his—”

“ _Alexios_. Have some respect. You’re referring to a sacred artifact.”

“Am I?” Alexios asked innocently. He laughed at the darkening expression on Thaletas’ face. “Gods, you people take things like this too seriously. The dead are dead and I bear what they used to bear, so what. Any Spartan heritage in me was presumably thrown off the cliff with me when I was a child.” 

The edge in Alexios’ tone was near-hidden by his smile. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Thaletas said carefully. 

Alexios sniffed. “Don’t be. You would have done the same in Nikolaos’ place. Spartans. So. What did I do, and should we be having this conversation in this state of undress?” 

“Perhaps not,” Thaletas said, making no move for his tunic. Besides, it wasn’t as though Alexios had anything to be self-conscious about. Or Thaletas. “You’re used to this. The work that you do. Destabilising territories.” 

“I suppose I am,” Alexios said. In his puzzlement, he had lost his sharp-edged humour, and Thaletas looked glad of that. 

“Have you worked for Athens before?” 

Alexios straightened up. Now he understood. “I’m a misthios. I work for whoever’s paying me. I challenge you to feel loyalty to a country that chose to murder you in your childhood. Though,” Alexios said, smiling sharply again, “I suppose Sparta might have tried that with you? I’ve heard stories of children training against wolves. Left to die if they can’t fend for themselves.” 

“Sparta makes weapons of her people, and I don’t begrudge Sparta what I have become in her name,” Thaletas said. He rubbed his temple, closing his eyes. “I understand working for coin. You have to eat. Upkeep your ship. I just wish. You could be so much more than a misthios.” 

“Become a General?” Alexios asked, mockingly now. “Like my pater, the so-called Wolf of Sparta?”

“A great man,” Thaletas said, meeting Alexios’ stare unflinchingly. 

“One who gave leave to a priest to murder his own infant daughter. Yes. A great man,” Alexios said, venomous and soft. “I have no interest in becoming a great man.” He started to get to his feet. 

Thaletas grabbed his elbow, pulling him back down. “I’ve offended you.”

“I don’t offend that easily,” Alexios said, unsmiling. “Yes, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Working now and then for Athens, however, isn’t one of those. I’ve worked for Perikles, for Kleon, for Athenian Generals and spies and farmers. Some of the work I enjoyed, some I didn’t. Some I took money for, some I refused payment for. It’s work. This is who I am.”

“It’s what you are,” Thaletas corrected. He kissed Alexios when Alexios tried to speak. It was easier. The words were leaving his tongue wrongly. They were frustrating each other by trying. Alexios pressed his mouth closed at first but grudgingly relaxed, pressing forward. He pushed his tongue into Thaletas’ mouth as he climbed up onto the bed, his hands curling over Thaletas’ shoulders. 

Thaletas was starting to pant. He pulled impatiently at Alexios’ loincloth, cursed as their legs tangled. Alexios chuckled, his temper easing. He tossed the last of their clothes on the ground and spat on his palm, taking them both in hand to stroke them. Thaletas gasped as he thrust eagerly against him, mouthing wet kisses up his stubbled cheek to his ear. “Get inside me,” Thaletas said roughly. 

Alexios went still. “You’re sure?” He’d done this with Thaletas before, but they’d had a lazy few days for prep and experimentation. 

“I said I missed you and I meant it,” Thaletas said. He sounded embarrassed to admit it, looking up at the ceiling instead of at Alexios. Alexios grinned, baring his teeth. He pressed fingers between Thaletas’ thighs, to the oiled opening between, already stretched. The spike of lust that surged in his blood nearly undid him right there. Alexios breathed raggedly, brushing his lips against Thaletas’ to distract them both. 

“Why, General,” Alexios purred, “thank you for the feast.”

Thaletas laughed and swatted at him, his embarrassment forgotten. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hurry up.” 

“As you wish,” Alexios said, with a playful lick over his mouth. Thaletas moaned loudly as Alexios pressed inside him, a moan that he hastily stifled with his wrist. He snarled as Alexios grabbed his hands and pressed them to the bed, biting when Alexios kissed him as an apology. “None of that,” Alexios whispered, as he eased in another inch and Thaletas hissed. “I want to hear you.” 

“This room… is hardly…” Thaletas jerked against Alexios grip and bit down on a whimper as Alexios pushed deeper. “Oh Gods, Gods.” 

“Your men can envy you if they like,” Alexios said, with a wink that made Thaletas roll his eyes, though he wrapped his thighs around Alexios’ hips. 

“That ego of yours, _aah_ —” Thaletas cried out.

“Godly, I know.” Alexios pushed balls deep, trying to slow his breathing. 

Thaletas was slick and tight, almost uncomfortably so. He was breathing in short, sharp gasps, pressed against the pillow with his teeth clenched. Beautiful. Alexios kissed Thaletas on his jaw, on his cheek, on the graceful arch of his throat. Licked at the scars, old and new. Easing his fingers up to clasp Thaletas’, Alexios kissed his shoulders to stifle the lover’s words he wanted to speak, promises he would never be able to keep. 

It was tempting to fuck Thaletas like this, with the man at his mercy. That would be the easy way out, and Alexios had never been one for those. He rocked against Thaletas instead, kissing him with each rolling thrust. Deeper and deeper, until they were both breathless. Thaletas soon forgot his reserve, moaning each time Alexios buried himself. His thighs squeezed Alexios’ hips sweetly, urging him on. They drank each other in and forgot the world too. 

“I love you,” Thaletas whispered, bright-eyed. “Alexios, Gods, Alexios. I love you.” Alexios chased the truth of his words on his mouth, in the shudder of his throat and in the salt-sweat on his shoulders. In the way Thaletas shook into his release, teeth buried in Alexios’ skin to stifle his cry. In the way he urged Alexios to spend himself by bucking urgently against his hips. 

They curled against each other when sated. Alexios stroked Thaletas’ arm, rubbing his thumbs over new scars. Thaletas inspected dappled scar tissue on Alexios’ thigh with gentle fingertips. “Arena fight,” Alexios said, with a nod at the scar. “I got pushed onto a burning grate. That place is intense.” 

“What? An Arena? Where?”

“Pephka.”

“The one in the pirate cove? Where you take on scores of people at once in a chamber full of death traps?” Thaletas said, incredulous. 

“Eh, it wasn’t so hard. I got word that there were two cultists who fought in the arena, so I wanted to draw them out.” 

Thaletas’ reserve returned, his fingers dropping away. “Destroying the cult. That’s what drives you now. It’s what you live for.”

“It drives me, but nothing more than that. Vengeance isn’t worth living for. I want to protect those I love. They have my sister in their grasp and will see to the deaths of everyone else I hold dear if they can.” Alexios traced his fingers up to Thaletas’ throat. “Even you.” 

Thaletas softened. “Justice or vengeance, I don’t begrudge you either. I just wish there was some way I could persuade you not to work for my enemies.” 

“You had to put it that way,” Alexios said, promising nothing. Thaletas didn’t try for more. He pulled Alexios against him instead, his breathing slowing.

#

Thaletas was surveying the sea from the battlements of the fort when Alexios pulled himself up the wall, finding handholds where Thaletas could see none. “Now I understand how you can so easily move in and out of a fort like a ghost,” Thaletas said.

“Catching its leader—” Alexios moved like a snake, going from his perch to pressed behind Thaletas in a heartbeat, “—by surprise.” He kissed Thaletas’ ear and laughed as he was pushed away. “Eh, it’s easier than you think. Athenians, Spartans, your patrols are predictable and your watchtowers aren’t always manned.” 

That was a depressing thought. Thaletas made a mental note to update the guard roster. “Thank you,” he said, before they could quarrel, “for your help.” 

“It was a _pleasure_ ,” Alexios said, with a dirty little smirk that made Thaletas snort. “I’ll try to come by this way again more often if I can.”

“You’re leaving already?” This shouldn’t have been a surprise, yet it was. It would be a surprise all the way until Alexios actually left, then it would hurt. 

“I have to,” Alexios said. He clasped Thaletas’ shoulder when Thaletas looked back over the sea. “Hey.” 

Thaletas laced his fingers briefly with Alexios’ and pulled away. “Where next?”

“There are rumours of a cultist that I want to chase up,” Alexios said, always deliberately vague where his hunt was concerned. “Then we’ll see. My mater wants me to do something for her.” 

“I’d like to meet her someday,” Thaletas said, without thinking. 

Alexios smiled warmly. “I’d love to introduce you to her. To everyone.” He hesitated. “Maybe not my little brother. He’s a bit of an ass.”

“You have a little brother?” Alexios had only told Thaletas of a sister. 

“Stentor… you know of him?”

The Wolf of Sparta’s adopted son, of course. “ _General_ Stentor.” 

“You’re a General too, and I like you a lot more.” Alexios dared to lean in for a kiss, laughing as Thaletas ducked out of reach. 

“I heard he wants to kill you. For killing Nikolaos.” 

“Oh, that. No, pater is still alive. Or if he isn’t, it wasn’t because of me,” Alexios said, vague again.

“You have the most complicated family in the world,” Thaletas said. This time, when Alexios leaned in, he allowed a quick peck on the mouth, the first of his farewells. It was already going to hurt.

#

“I thought men couldn’t lead the Daughters of Artemis,” Thaletas said, bemused, as he poured wine for Alexios in the rooftop garden of the villa.

Alexios pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods, don’t remind me. It’s a long story. I was going to fight the Gorgon—”

“What?”

“—to save a Daughter of Artemis, like I said, long story, and it turns out the key to her imprisonment was in their village. I’d been killing strange beasts for another Daughter before that, creatures like the Kretan Bull—”

“ _What_.”

“—and when the village seemed aggressive to outsiders I found her on the outskirts and tried to talk to her. Turns out she was their leader and by their laws murdering all those animals meant I had to fight her for the leadership? So we argued and I pointed out that I was a man, she said Artemis works in mysterious ways, so.” Alexios shrugged. “It was the will of the Gods?”

“Since when have you paid that much heed?” 

“Since I was surrounded by a number of archers and harangued into a fight,” Alexios said, “and I’ve never been one to back down from a fight.” He grinned at Thaletas as he said it, a lazy grin that had Thaletas flush a little and look away. “After all that, a group of them insisted on crewing my ship so there they are. Besides, they keep Kassandra calm and mater likes them.”

Thaletas grimaced. Meeting a descendant of Leonidas and the Wolf of Sparta had been intimidating enough, but Kassandra was far worse. She was like Alexios but whetted into flint. Something in her fierce stare and hungry grin reminded Thaletas of a maddened lioness. “I don’t think your family liked me.” 

“Kassandra doesn’t like anyone, Stentor is an ass like I’ve already said, pater just tends to be reserved around ranking Spartans, and mater has this strange preoccupation with ‘continuing the bloodline’.” Alexios rolled his eyes. “She’ll get over it.” 

“…Complicated family,” Thaletas said. 

“It could be yours, if you want it,” Alexios said, hushed. 

“Alexios…” Thaletas smiled as Alexios leaned in, already breathless with anticipation. 

“Of all the people in the world, really this one?” asked a low voice from the corner. “That other leader on this island, Kyra something or other, surely she’s more interesting.” 

Alexios froze and closed his eyes, exasperated. “ _Kassandra_.”

Kassandra hauled herself up onto the roof, striding over and grabbing Alexios’ cup. She sniffed the wine, then downed it in a gulp and wiped her mouth. Thaletas forced himself to stand his ground. Resplendent in golden armour, a fine blade belted to her hip, if not for the fury restlessly banked in her eyes Kassandra would have looked like Athena reborn. A Goddess of War waiting impatiently for her next victim. She stared at him belligerently. “Are you good in a fight?”

“Not as good as your brother,” Thaletas said. 

“Tch. Then you can’t handle me.” Kassandra stalked over to the side of the building and looked over. “Is anyone on this boring little island worth fighting?”

“Stentor?” Alexios suggested, annoyed. 

“Already pushed him into one of the pools. Hopefully, he’ll drown.” Kassandra yawned, scratching at her jaw. “There’s pater, I suppose.” 

Alexios narrowed his eyes. Hastily, Thaletas said, “If you want a fight, I’ll fight. No Spartan stands down from a fight.” 

Kassandra eyed him thoughtfully. “No. You don’t look like you’d be much of a challenge. And I think you could be useful. If you fuck my brother a few times maybe he’ll loosen up tomorrow. I want to steer the ship,” she told Alexios when he sputtered. “It’s my turn.” 

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Alexios grit out. “And don’t go picking a fight with pater.”

“Relax,” Kassandra said, smirking as she stepped up over the edge of the roof with a mocking flourish. “I’m not going to kill him. Just stab him a little. In non-essential places.” She stepped off the roof and out of sight. 

Alexios sighed. Wordlessly, Thaletas refilled his cup. “If you need to go after her, go,” Thaletas said. 

“No. Not tonight.” Alexios took a sip of the wine and kissed Thaletas, pressing the fluid against his tongue. He licked Thaletas’ lips before pulling away. “Tonight, I’m all yours.” 

“I was waiting for you to say that,” Thaletas whispered, and drew Alexios away. For now, this could be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @manic_intent  
> tumblr: manic-intent.tumblr.com


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